1. A Teardrop's Silence


    Date: 2/22/2015, Categories: Love Poems, Author: dragon_lilly, Rating: 36, Source: LushStories

    Overwhelmed, our vulnerable hearts fill up, fragile from the weight of emotion, yet there is no collapse or implosion, only the soundless falling of a single tear. A drop in the ocean without noise or ceremony, I can feel it reverberating somewhere in the voice that I know and a stranger's cold echo lies the silence of letting so much of myself go. Letting them go is a release so profound, I am always surprised that something so potent from inside can rain so beautifully without making a sound, from the immediacy of a present moment or an overwhelming flash of memory. Maybe its sound is untraceable to us, cadences and inflections of a language that would make us forget our better angels. Never does a teardrop form without a story, each born in the presence of the past and now, with every hidden chapter in between, so full of various histories until finally falling down rosy raw cheeks. Leaving behind a trail on damp skin, its travels are muted, laden with pain, all the fears I've yet to give a voice to. They race downward leaving my cheek, as if desperate to escape me, as if the stories they contain refuse to be a part of me any longer. Their ...
    ripples travel in every direction, a message telegraphed to a heart that can still hold me and keep me safe. Not each one is bitter or meant to make you stay, some hold resilient glimmers when striking the light, hopeful reminders flickering even when I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard, delighted in all my being Drops in the ocean without noise or ceremony, unheard verses and choruses rippling, trembling along from that place where your heart knew me as no other ever had or could. At times I let them go to keep an even darker pain at bay, to shield myself and those I know from where I've been, that I don’t burst at times from all the love I still hold within. Maybe its sound is immeasurable and infinite, booming, laughing, screaming that would deafen fragile hearts with the potency of the stories contained, that sound of our better angels flying towards light. But something that cleanses our souls deserves to create sound when fleeing from us, whether it's just a singular sad note or the sweep of a loving symphony. I certainly feel the reverberation of each tear that seems to fill my very core with echoes. Echoes. Then silence.
«1»